


White Light

by iggycakes



Series: Everyone in Overwatch wants to Bang [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-10 12:25:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7844878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iggycakes/pseuds/iggycakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jesse McCree teaches Genji how to speak English. Because, obviously, he's the most qualified for this job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Guess who's back? Back again.

Genji remembers death in flashes.

It plays. Backwards. Forward. In pieces. It’s a nightmare. Every second makes his body writhe in pain. Until, Genji realizes, he doesn’t have a body to feel pain with.

He remembers the fight. The sun sets, the moon rises. He and Hanzo sit on the terrace and exchange stories over drinks. It’s their usual thing and the first time they’ve been alone together since father’s death. Genji jokes about how he’s going to be a thorn in Hanzo’s side. The clan hates him. They probably think it’s better if he died instead of father. Unfair. It’s not like he killed father, after all. But he still has Hanzo. It'll work out somehow.

Hanzo says nothing. 

Genji can’t remember his brother’s face that night. 

He remembers the sound of a sword unsheathing. He remembers how close the first strike was to slicing his arm off. How close the second was to taking his right foot. He remembers holding his breath, jumping away, looking at his brother in horror and confusion. He unsheathes his own sword in panic. He can hardly see past his own tears that pour out despite himself. 

He tries to wipe his face. He tries to see Hanzo’s expression.

But Genji sees nothing.

It could’ve been anger. Could’ve been remorse. Pain.

Did he hate himself for what he’s trying to do?

How did it come to this? Were his mistakes that insurmountable? Was Hanzo not on his side? Were they not brothers? Did he not love him?

They fight. Swords clash. Dragon against dragon. It’s enough to make the whole castle shake. But Genji’s strength isn’t enough. Hanzo is overwhelming. Of course he is. He's going to be clan leader. He was going to succeed father. He was the best the clan had to offer. As if Genji could stand a chance. He doesn't even want to.

He loves Hanzo.

He… loved Hanzo.

Genji remembers his final thoughts. They entangle his heart, embody his soul. It’s all he thinks about now.

Was freedom that much to ask for?

“Brother, was it too much to ask for?”

Everything goes black. He drifts. He feels the most at ease he’s felt in over a decade. He’s empty. It’s bliss.

Silence.

Then, it all comes rushing back.

There’s yelling. Lots of it. Mostly in a language he doesn’t recognize. An angelic voice. Genji wonders if he was sent to the wrong heaven. No more space in Japan’s skies. Sorry. His own brother just killed him, little could surprise Genji now.

Then, there’s another voice. Sweet, honeyed, speaking something that kind of sounds like English. Genji never heard any English like that. He bets it belongs to someone handsome, but before he can imagine anything, pain washes in like a flood.

Another voice joins the noise. It sounds like his own, but he’s not sure. It’s unfamiliar. Broken.

He hears the broken voice yell his brother’s name. Hanzo. Hanzo. Hanzo. Hanzo. Over and over again. Strained. Disjointed. Soon, the voice stops with a screech. Tires scratching pavement. 

It halts.

Genji is sure he’s dead.

-0-

Beep… Beep… Beep…

He hears someone humming. It’s a soft melody. Every now and then, the voice breathes out a word or two. He doesn’t recognize the voice. He doesn’t recognize anything. He tries to open his eyes. It seems the apt thing to do, even though he doesn’t remember falling asleep in the first place. His lids feel heavy and he struggles. 

They open without notice. The light hurts and it takes a few moments to adjust. White ceiling. White walls. Machines whirring all around him. A medical facility? He tries to move, but every action feels so different. It’s almost like his body isn’t his own. 

He finally finds the source of the humming. 

It’s a man, sitting on a stool by the window sill. He is smoking and looking outside with vacant eyes. A metal arm holds a cigarette to his lips, a red serape covers his shoulders and, for some reason, he’s wearing a cowboy hat.

Genji tries to laugh and it comes out all wrong. Like garbled noises.

The man notices he’s awake and hops out of his stool, which topples over. He runs over to him, saying something really quickly in a bewildered tone.

“What?”

“Oh geez, don’t tell me you don’t speak no English.” Genji still has no clue what the man is saying. “Hold up, I’m gonna fetch the doc. You sit still and pretty, alright? Don’t think y’can even get up if ya wanted to anyhow.”

The man leaves the room.

Genji is left to wonder why the smell of tobacco didn’t bother him.

Then, he looks down.

“Oh…”

His body is unrecognizable.

His torso looks like it was built from scratch. Armor tacked on every party that looks like skin. There are vents on his chest down to his stomach that looked a dog’s tits. Genji finds the same story on his legs. Muscles and skin built around bone. Metal covering the whole. Parts of his arm still feels real, but his hands are metal. They move when he wants them to, but he feels the delay. The foreignness of his actions.

Genji laughs again, horrified by the robotic rasps that come out of him. Like a terrible cold. Like he hasn’t spoken in decades. He feels like Frankenstein’s monster.

Even death evades him.

-0-

Dr. Angela Ziegler appears later with cowboy man trailing quietly behind her. 

They struggle to communicate. Genji regrets not playing more attention in English class. He was too busy skipping it, going on dates with Yukos and Taichis. But he manages to scrape some things. He recognizes the doctor from TV. Mercy. Overwatch. He is in one of the Overwatch HQs. He assumes the cowboy must be some other agent. 

She rebuilt his body, used what was left, which isn’t much, from Genji’s observations.

She saved him.

He doesn’t need to understand English to know why. As someone from the Shimada clan, there’s probably a lot of information they could get from him. Maybe they even want him to join them, fight for them.

Genji doesn’t want to think about any of those things right now.

-0-

The next weeks are hard. Harder than any training he’s ever done.

He feels like a baby, having to learn how to walk again. Having to regain control over his body. Having doctors pick and probe at him every evening, trying to fix calibrations, trying to make it easier for him. And it does. They take out parts, exchange them, and rebuild others with better materials. Every day, being a “person” gets easier and, every day, he hates it more and more. The more he hates it, the more he trains and the stronger he wants to become. 

It takes two whole months for them to “complete” his body. It has a sleek design, fits his “ninja” image. Part of Genji wants to find it cool, but he turns himself off the second he realizes this is his body now. Not a video game. Not some anime or shonen manga. Reality.

Some nights, he takes the mask off and stares at his reflection. He laughs, thinking no one would ever recognize him now. Not like this. With most of his face missing, scarred, ugly. With most of his body gone. Sex probably isn’t even an option for him anymore.

Well, at least he enjoyed himself while he could. Bright side.

Genji puts the mask back on. The green light flickers. This face was more familiar now.

The Shimada clan did this to him.

Berated his father for loving him.

Pressured his brother into killing him.

Now, he’s a monster.

Genji throws himself at the tasks in front of him. He lets the doctors and scientists do whatever they want. Their upgrades makes him faster, stronger. In no time at all, the training simulations stop posing a threat. He wonders if he could Hanzo, as is he is now.

Hanzo.

What was his brother up to now that he’s gone?

Did he take his place at the head of the Shimada clan? Is he continuing their family’s legacy? 

Genji avoids asking those questions to anyone. Not even when Dr. Ziegler brings it up the subject herself. He knows it’s out of concern. He needs to talk about these things. He needs to sort out his feelings.

He doesn’t want to.

He trains and train and trains and trains…

-0-

“You know, I was thinking, someone should probably teach him English.”

Genji shows up to Mercy’s office for his usual appointment. He hears her talking to someone inside and politely waits by the slightly open door. Over the past few weeks, he’s learned more English, but conversational speed still escapes him.

“What? And y’think I’m the man for it?” Genji recognizes the voice. It belongs to the cowboy. “Come on, Mercy, I ain’t that free.”

“Aren’t you? I hear Blackwatch ops have been put on hold. Surely you’ve got some hours to spare.”

“But I don’t even speak a lick of Japanese. How’re we supposed to get on?”

“Jesse…” The doctor’s voice is soft. “He needs a friend. There’s no one else here who can be that for him.”

“A friend, huh?”

The room goes quiet and Genji decides it’s the perfect time to announce his presence. He knocks on the door and peers inside. The cowboy stands there, metal arm crossed over real arm. His face is dark and roughed up, but there’s handsome, rugged charm there that Genji didn’t notice before. The cowboy faces him with a surprised look, like he was caught doing something bad.

Genji steps inside the room. “Sorry. For interrupting.” He says, in disjointed English.

“Not at all, Genji. You are where you are supposed to be.” Dr. Ziegler responds with an angelic smile. Genji appreciates her tone and speed. She always makes it easy for him to decipher her words.

The doctor then looks at the cowboy expectantly.

Genji confusedly follows her gaze. 

“Aw, hell. Fine, y’got me.” The cowboy unravels his arm and walks towards Genji with his real hand out. “Name’s Agent Jesse McCree, Blackwatch. Everyone calls me McCree.”

“Ma-kku-ri,” Genji repeats. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Shi…” He stops. “I’m Genji.”

They shake hands.

Luckily, no one notices his hesitation. He hasn’t had to actually introduce himself to anyone since his resurrection. It’s a strange feeling. Shimada Genji just didn’t feel right anymore.

McCree lets his hand go and then sheepishly rubs his temple. “So, uh yeah, looks like I’m gonna be teaching you some English. What’s that word you guys use? Yoroshiku?” 

The cowboy’s accent makes Genji laugh. Slow, robotic. Still wrong. “Yes,” he replies in Japanese. “Good effort.”

McCree smiles at him.

Genji feels it then, for the first time in weeks. 

Like, maybe. 

Maybe things are going to be alright.


	2. Love Letter to Japan

Jesse McCree is an extremely attractive man.

Sharp face. Dark eyes. A smile and voice that, paired together, would make anyone swoon. Well-toned body. Strong arms. Genji wonders what it’d be like to have the cowboy ride him. Would he be gentle? Would he rough? Could he do both? 

Genji’s been with his fair share of foreigners. Mostly people on business trips. He enjoyed playing them, acting like whoever it looked like they wanted him to be. A modest university student. A cocky rich boy. An obedient pet. An unruly rebel. Those days were gone but, looking at McCree long enough was enough to make him want it again.

They sit across each other in the mess hall. It’s hours after dinner, when everyone’s off doing whatever they’d like and this part of HQ is pretty quiet. Despite his accent, McCree is a surprisingly diligent teacher. When they started these lessons two weeks ago, he went and bought a textbook from a used bookstore in town. Genji was surprised he even managed to find a Japanese-English textbook in the first place. McCree called it divine luck.

Genji looks at the textbook right now, keeping a smile to himself as he notices the sharp edges of the pages, the pristine condition of the book’s spine. Everything about it indicates its new condition. McCree insists. “Lady luck’s on my side.”

Whatever image the cowboy was trying to preserve, Genji let him keep it.

Over the past fourteen days, the two diligently worked through the exercises in the textbook. It was all surprisingly easy once Genji decide to apply himself.  
McCree slides the textbook towards himself and turns it over so he can read it. “So, where were we?”

“Verb tenses.”

“Aw…” McCree turns over the pages. “… Hell. You’ve got notes written all over it already. Thought you didn’t like studyin’.”

“I did not have a reason to like it.”

McCree leans back, taking out of cigarette from somewhere under his serape. He lights it up. Genji watches the man with admiration, glad that the cowboy cannot read his expressions. 

But McCree winks at him. “You sayin’ you do now?”

“Maybe.” Genji takes the textbook back and closes it. “Even with all that I have learned in these two weeks. I still do not understand the way you talk.”

“That’s flatterin’, sweetheart.” McCree takes a puff from his cig and exhales. A cunning smirk draws itself on his lips. Genji wonders what they’d feel like against his. “To hear you working so hard just to understand me.”

“I would not have to if my teacher spoke normal English. But Dr. Ziegler insists you are the only one with free time.”

“Here I thought we were getting’ on swell and you go ruin it, Genji-kun.”

The cowboy laughs. Genji holds back his own. He still hates the sound of it. His laughter. The robotic garble. 

Instead, he stares at the man sitting across him. Maybe he stands a bit too long because, he realizes, McCree is staring back now. Dark brown eyes bear into him. It’s like he can see right past his visor, at this face. His horrible, mangled face. 

McCree stands up and rounds the table, extending a hand towards Genji as if asking a lady to step out her carriage. He’s so stupid. Holding in his laughter gets harder. He indulges the cowboy, taking the hand and standing. McCree doesn’t let go.

“Are we going somewhere?”

“Surprise,” McCree smirks. “It’ll be more fun than verbs.”

Genji can think of a number of things that would be a whole lot more fun than verbs. For example, taking off McCree’s serape and shirt so he can fondle what's underneath. Anything along those lines. 

He feels the warmth of McCree’s hands around his metal one as they walk along. Genji spares a thought to whoever might catch them like this. He didn’t know many of the other agents besides the doctor and McCree. He’s met Commander Morrison once, as well as Captain Reyes a couple of times. He’s seen a big guy in impressive armor drop in once. An excited girl with another undecipherable accent. And a gorilla—er, scientist. He’s forgotten most of their names. 

They go up two flights of stairs and an elevator. The doors open and Genji is greeted a huge, beautiful, orange sunset.

“Ain’t that a righteous sight?”

It’s the first time he’s stepped outside since Mercy brought him back to life. The first time he’s seen the sun. It disappears gently over the horizon, slowly painting the sky in twilight colours. It’s just like that night.

“It is beautiful…” Genji breathes out, realizing that he wants to cry. 

“I reckon’d you don’t go out much. Ain’t sure how much fresh air helps now but— Darlin’, you alright?”

“Eh?”

McCree steps toward him, cupping the thin armor that holds his chin together. He’s staring straight at him, through the visor, into his soul. Genji gets lost in that dark gaze again. He wants to pull him in closer. 

“What are you doing?” Genji asks, instead.

“You’re cryin’.”

Genji stiffens and slaps the hand away. How did he know? How could he tell? He brings his hand up to his face, just to make sure the visor is still on. It is. Then how?

“I feel like I’m startin’ to read ya properly. You’re strangely expressive, even with your face hidden away.”

McCree answers even though he didn’t ask. Embarrassment cascades over him. “Hey, if ya don’t wanna talk about it, I won’t push. But, I’m here for you. It can’t have been easy, these past few weeks, without anyone really to talk to.”

Genji wants to yell. He wants to tell McCree that he doesn’t even know the half of it. He gets up in the morning feeling wrong. When he looks in the mirror, it feels wrong. When he trains, getting better and better, beating every record, every day, every try, it feels wrong. He doesn’t feel like himself. He feels wrong. In his mind, he still sees himself. His youth. His hair. His handsome smile. He pictures himself surrounded by faceless strangers and they all love him. That Genji. 

Then, he catches his own reflection and has to accept reality. He isn’t human anymore. He isn’t even really a machine. He isn’t anything. Everything about him is wrong.

And.

Even if he wants to talk. Even if he wants to spill his heart to McCree, ask him to give him comfort. Even if that’s what he wants to do, Genji doesn’t have the words.

“I have had you to talk to lately.” He finally says.

“Aw, shucks. So y’do appreciate me.” McCree grins at him. “Nah, but really, Genji-kun. You can even vent in Japanese. I won’t understand any of it, but least it’ll be off your chest, yeah?”

“Fuck that.” Genji pulls off the visor and lets it drop to the floor. “I do not want to talk.”

He throws his arms around McCree and closes the gap between them. The cowboy looks bewildered, but he puts up no resistance. Of course he wouldn’t. Genji can’t help but smile as he brings their lips closer together. His stitched lips against chapped ones.

It’s not a great kiss. It’s rushed. Flustered. But the contact puts him at ease. His arms wraps around McCree tighter. It’s warm. It’s wet. He can feel it. He can still feel. More. 

“You’re so handsome, it’s annoying.” Genji exhales, their lips still brushing each other. 

“Don’t know what that means, but thank ya kindly.”

Genji laughs. It’s throaty and unnatural, but he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t care. He couldn’t care less. “I could have said something rude.”

“In that sweet voice? You ain’t as subtle as y’think, hun.”

McCree puts one hand on Genji’s waist and looks at him fondly. Callused fingers brush over the scars on his face tenderly. There isn’t an inch of pity in expression. There’s just… admiration.

“Maybe I wanted you to notice.” 

“Amazin’ how it all works out then, huh?”

-0-

English lessons become a lot more interesting from there on out.

Everything falls into a comfortable routine, as if he’s living a real life. Genji wakes. He performs a quick self-maintenance to make sure everything’s working fine, as per Dr. Ziegler’s instructions. He trains with different simulations. He gets calibrations and little upgrades. Every day there is less to change. When training is done, Genji roams the HQ aimlessly. When he’s lucky, he finds McCree, but usually settles with watching him go about his business. He follows the cowboy quietly, watching him interact with the different agents that come and go. 

Tracer, a pilot. Ana Amari, a skilled sniper. Captain Reyes, McCree’s boss. Those are the conversations that bewilder him the most. They speak to each other in a quick, soft language Genji thinks is Spanish. At times, serious. At times, lighthearted. The two talk a lot.

Then, after dinner, the mess hall clears and Genji comes down to find McCree waiting.

“You should have dinner with us sometime.”

“I would like that.”

“Wasn’t expectin’ that for an answer.” McCree cocks his head and flashes him that signature smile. “Why don’t you, then?

Genji falls silent. He changes the subject. “What are we learning tonight?”

McCree reads the atmosphere and moves on. Genji is thankful for his understanding. “I ain’t sure there’s much left’a learn, sweetheart.”

They find a nice, quiet spot in HQ’s empty halls. Somewhere different every day to change it up. They make out and Genji learns a new way to feel good. Like when McCree draws a line down his back and grabs his ass while their tongues dance. Like when McCree breathes heavily in his eyes, presses his body against his and lets his weight fall whenever the heat becomes too much. 

“Darlin’, you drive me up the wall.”

“I am the one you have against a wall right now.” 

Genji tackles every new day with newfound zeal. He greets the engineers and scientists ‘good morning.’ There’s emotion in his robotic voice. He nearly scares them with his enthusiasm. Mercy tells him later that they expressed worry for his overly friendly demeanor. Genji laughs, ignoring the static that comes out.

“I, for one, am very happy you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

Mercy smiles at him angelically. Genji expects her to ask ‘how’ and ‘why’, but realizes she probably doesn’t have to. She was the one who suggested McCree teach him English in the first place. Did he foresee this outcome? Genji didn’t want to give her that much credit. If she could think that far ahead, it would be fearsome.

“So… About what I asked?”

“Right,” Mercy crosses her legs. She is sitting on her desk chair, hands folded neatly on her knees. “Well, most of your throat and vocal chords are still intact just… severely damaged. I didn’t want to strain them, so we opted to have your voice work synthetically.”

Genji waits for her explain further. He is leaning forward, legs straight, hands gripping his knees tightly. 

Mercy continues. “We can do some surgery and let them heal naturally. Talking will be difficult for a few days, but afterwards, you’ll have your voice back.”

Genji beams. “Really?”

“Tonight, after the usual maintenance. If you’d like.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Genji bows his head. 

“Ah, don’t thank me just yet. I do have a condition.” Mercy’s smiles sours a notch. “The commander wants you to work for us.” She bites her lip like she has more to say but doesn’t want to.

“I have seen this coming and, of course, I accept.” Genji raises his head. “It is the least I can do.”

“Even if… Even if it’s to bring down your own family?”

“I do not have a family anymore.” Genji stands up. “It would be my pleasure to aid your organization in any way possible.”

Mercy sighs. “Alright, then. Come by around seven. I’ll see you later.”

Genji nods and exit the room. When the door closes behind him, he stares at the floor, fists clenched. 

“Besides, I have a score to settle with them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I am so sorry my McCree isn't great. That southern thing is difficult for a Canadian to grasp. I hope you're all convinced anyway.  
> \- Sex next chapter. Probably not anything super explicit.  
> \- (Reminder that this fic is gonna serve as prequel to something bigger and less angsty. Stick around!)  
> -[If anyone needs to know how I picture Genji](http://badlyplanned.tumblr.com/post/149332211766/inspired-by-iggycakess-tweet-lmao)


	3. A Cowboy and a Ninja

Genji dreams.

It’s six in the morning. He just gets home. His clothes are only half on. His neon green hair pokes out in every direction. A headband pulls it back, making it look less messy, but his appearance isn’t any less unbecoming. He yawns, stepping through the main gates without a care in the world. Everyone’s asleep. The guards posted by the gates are used to his escapades. They glare at him as he passes, but their anger means nothing to him. He walks pass them, into the gardens. The sun shines through the cherry blossom trees, casting scattered shadows under his feet. He follows the shadows until they’re interrupted by a pair of feet. Genji looks up. It is his brother.

_“G’mornin’”_ He greets him with a lazy smile.

Hanzo’s face scrunches up. _“What were you doing out so late?”_

_“Late?”_ Genji points at the sky. _“Think I’m pretty early, actually.”_

He looks at Hanzo, expecting a snappy reply, but his older brother just shakes his head and walks away. _Ah, so I’m not even worth arguing with anymore, am I?_

Not too long ago, they told each other everything.

The clan ruined everything.

With their rules. Their restrictions.

Their reputation and their honor.

_“We don’t need any of it, brother._ ” He says naively, with conviction. Arrogance. Pride.

_“You slack off enough for the both of us, Genji_.”

He should’ve know what a toll it was on his brother. He should’ve understood. He should’ve helped somehow. Limit his freedom. Help the clan. Show some respect and dignity. But Genji did nothing. He didn’t even try.

But it’s not his fault.

It’s not.

All he wanted was freedom. The freedom to do what he wanted. The freedom to choose his own path. The freedom to be himself. _Genji._ Just Genji.

_Was it too much to ask?_

Apparently so.

Then, Genji wakes up.

Dr. Ziegler’s angelic smile is the first thing that greets him. Genji remembers. He’s in surgery for his voice.  He opens his mouth to talk and the doctor shakes her head, putting a finger to her own lips.

“No talking. Three days, maybe two and half. You’ll need to check-in with me so we can observe the healing process.”

In that moment, Genji realizes he’s going to miss talking. Three days is a long time to stay quiet for. Should he walk around with a notebook?

“Also, we got the go ahead to send you on a mission.” The doctor continues, doubt sinks in her voice. She wishes she doesn’t have to mention this part. “A quick recon mission to Hanamura.”

Straight out of surgery and into a mission? To his old home? And he can’t even talk? Strike-Commander Morrison must be a lot meaner than he initially thought.

“I know what you’re thinking, but…” She hesitates. Genji can tell this whole affair disgusts her. The doctor is a good person, after all. “This is a Blackwatch op. Captain Reyes asked to have you on it.”

For obvious reasons.

“Ah but, on the bright side, McCree will be accompanying you.”

Genji hopes his disbelief shows on his face. Mercy laughs, so it must be. She continues to detail the mission for him. There are technically documents that he should be reading over himself, but English reading comprehension isn’t his forte. Jesse McCree is one of Blackwatch’s top agents. Mercy assures him he has no reason to doubt the cowboy’s ability. Genji doesn’t know how to tell her that he’s worried about the whole communication part.

“And, if anything, you can just carry a notebook around.”

Yes, ninja cyborg, equipped with a notebook. Great image.

“I’m kidding, Genji.” Mercy turns around and rolls over to her desk to grab something. When she returns, Genji sits up slowly. The doctor holds out a small tablet and attaches it to his left arm.

Genji taps on it. A keyboard appears.

Well, this will work.

He types slowly. A synthetic voice speaks. _“Thanks.”_

“Ah, wait. Winston did install something useful for you.” She leans over and fiddles with the settings. “Here.”

Genji looks at the tablet again. Japanese-English instant translation. He beams. _“Do I get to keep it?”_

“It’s a last minute gadget. If it comes back from the mission intact, maybe we’ll figure out how to attach it to your suit.” The doctor rolls back to a more comfortable distance. She explains more details about the mission. Says that, by now, Captain Reyes should have briefed McCree on it as well. They are supposed to depart in 0600 hours. The tablet has a mute option. While on the mission, they are to maintain radio silence except for one daily check-in, scheduled for 9PM UTC+1. They have only three nights to get useful information regarding how the clan is being run now. If it is safe, they can attempt sneaking in, but it’s not necessary.

Getting caught is the worst case scenario.

-0-

_“McCree!”_

“Whoa! If that ain’t the most jarring thing…”

Genji finds McCree in the mess hall, preparing a cup of coffee. He sneaks up on the cowboy who turns around and almost trips on his own feet. A bit of coffee spills out of his cut, but he doesn’t’ drop it. He looks at Genji, not understanding where the weird voice came from.

_“I’ve just had surgery. No talking for two days.”_

“That’s a darn shame, I love listenin’ to you talk.”

_“I know something else you love.”_ Genji quickly types and then throws a quick look around him to make sure no one else is in the vicinity. He pulls up his visor and gets up on his toes to give McCree a quick kiss. It tastes like bitter coffee.

“Darlin’ y’sure know how to sweep a man off his feet.” McCree smirks, setting his cup down on the counter so it isn’t in the way. He slides his arms around Genji’s waist. “I take it y’heard about the mission already?”

Genji leans comfortably on McCree. He types away on the tablet, comforted by the sight of Japanese characters. He doesn’t have to pause to think of how to formulate his sentences. It’s a huge relief. _“Yes. Recon in Hanamura to gather information on the Shimada clan’s operations.”_

“Ain’t you scared?”

_“Do I have reason to be?_

“Don’t play coy, Genji-kun.”

McCree stares at him with severity and concern. Genji pushes off him and turns around. He doesn’t want to talk about it. It’s none of his business. Butt out. Leave him alone. This isn’t why he went to find McCree in the first place.

“Alright, alright. No need ta ball your fists.” McCree grabs his hands. He doesn’t realize until contact that he was shaking. “I won’t ask anymore. I’ll just be with ya. That sound good, darlin’?”

For now, yes.

-0-

They’re dropped in Seoul, where he and McCree take a commercial flight to Narita to stay undercover. Genji’s visor and McCree’s Peacekeeper are hidden away safely. He’s wearing a large hoodie, careful to hide his scarred face. Luckily, it’s an early flight and no one pays them any attention.

When they land in Japan, the anxiety finally hits him. Genji retreats to the bathroom while McCree waits for their luggage. Alone, he takes out a pile of makeup from his backpack. Genji carefully covers his scars with foundation and concealer, setting the whole with powder and then bronzing to make sure he doesn’t look like a zombie. Funny, because isn’t that what he is?

Finally, he takes out the black eyeliner and lines his eye, giving himself a sharp cat eye. Just like when he was alive.

Genji stares at his reflection.

The illusion is convincing.

But it doesn’t convince him.

On the bright side, it’ll convince everyone else. Genji tries a smile. He thinks about McCree instead. He’ll probably compliment him when he comes back out. He’ll tell him he looks good, that he wouldn’t mind seeing him like this every day. Genji takes a breath. McCree’s kindness is heaven-sent. Focus on him. There’s no way you can feel bad about yourself while he’s next to you.

Genji rejoins McCree at baggage reclaim.

He is standing by next to the conveyor belt, weight on one leg, hip out. Without his serape, his muscular build a lot easier to admire. But the cowboy hat still sits on his head. Genji appears from behind him with a little two-finger wave. McCree steps back, surprised by his sudden appearance. He grins. He isn’t a ninja for nothing, after all.

For a second, the cowboy studies his face. There’s a certain serenity to his expression, like he’s examining a painting in a museum.

“Well darlin’, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

The way he says it soothes his heart. It’s a comfort, a sweet whisper before bed.

“But, y’know you’re beautiful all the same.” He smiles, bringing his hand to his cheek with affection. “You ain’t feelin’ uncomfortable or anything are you?”

How did this man keep surpassing all of his expectations? With a face like that. A body like that. A voice like that. He’s supposed to believe McCree character was that pure too? Where were his faults? Genji put his hand on McCree’s, taking it off his face and intertwining their fingers.

_“I’ll be fine.”_

Genji refuses to let go McCree’s hand for the rest of trip. McCree doesn’t ask questions, accepts with sincerity and looks as satisfied as a baby in a blanket. They get stares and whispers. Genji ignores it all. He ignores the feeling of his chest closing in on itself. He ignores the voices in his head telling him not to get too comfortable.

They take a taxi to the train station where they buy tickets and hop on the next one heading to Hanamura, where they plan on staying at an inn. It’s a six hour trip. They sit next to each other in a cabin. Genji has the window view.

They play a game. Twenty questions. McCree asks one. Genji answers, then he gets to ask. Then, back to McCree and so on. Simple game. Easy distraction.

“Favorite color?” McCree asks. “No wait, let me guess. Green? Can I take that one back? It was a fake question.”

Genji rolls his eyes, but allows it.

“Longest relationship?” The cowboy grins, rubbing his thumb while he waits. A comfort.

_“Two weeks.”_

“Two weeks?!”

_“My turn,”_ Genji grins back. _“Why do you dress like a cowboy?”_

“Aw, hun. That ain’t no short answer.”

Genji looks at him expectantly. McCree shakes his head and sighs, but the grin it still on his face. “I’ll be honest with ya. It ain’t exactly the most interesting story. But if ya really must know…”

Yeah, he must.

McCree leans forward. Hand on his. Nose brushes against his own. Genji feels his breath against his lips. “Stickin’ out like a sore thumb is another form of stealth.”

Genji frowns. Certainly, that works as an answer, but it wasn’t what he wanted. McCree laughs and stops Genji from typing on his tablet by grabbing his wrist. “So, anyway, I was countin’ and, y’see, we’ve been together almost two months.”

Slowly, McCree works his fingers up Genji’s arm until it reaches his shoulder. He then cups the back of Genji’s head with his hand. Softly, lovingly. “Therefore, last answer was a total lie.”

_“When exactly did I agree to date you?”_

“I think it’s when,” McCree clears his throat and imitates Genji’s voice as best he can. “ _I do not want to talk._ Then, y’kissed me. All vigorous and cute.”

Genji hunches over and hides his face with hands, embarrassed.

“Aw, don’t get bashful on me, hun. I mean, it wasn’t like I didn’t wanna? I was actually tryin’ to figure out how to come on to you the whole time without bein’ rude. Then y’go and do somethin’ like that. Thought you’d been readin’ my mind.”

_“Just ask your question already, will you?”_

“Well, if we ain’t dating yet, can I ask if we’re datin’ now?”

Genji would laugh if he could. He feels the laughter swell in his throat and the pain that comes with it. Everything there is so fragile. He holds it in, swallows the ache. Instead, he grins and leans on McCree’s shoulder to rest. For someone so forward, he sure did care about little things.

_“If it makes you happy, I’d be glad to call myself your boyfriend.”_

-0-

He falls asleep. He can’t remember when or how.

Genji dreams again.

He sees McCree, all smiles and compliments. He’s wet, a towel wrapped around his waist. It’s the only thing he has on. It’s like he’s just come out of the shower. Genji swallows. He looks down at himself, finding that he’s in the same state. Slightly wet. A towel around his waist. His body is fully human. Every inch of him is flesh and bones.

He is dreaming.

Dream-McCree comes closer, he puts his arms on Genji’s shoulders and starts swaying as if there was music playing. He is humming. Genji reaches out towards him, feels the roughness of his freshly shaved shin against his fingers. He starts swaying too, gazing into McCree’s dark eyes.

Genji knows it’s a dream.

He knows that it’s fake.

For all the affection McCree gives him, it doesn’t change the fact that his body isn’t human anymore. Kisses were one thing. Making out in dark corners were another.

Genji didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to think about the changes in his body. Didn’t want to think about how it would change everything. He couldn’t have his past life anymore. Not any of it. No more endless spending. No more parties. No more sex. No more indulgences. Flirt and get close to whoever he’d like, but… He’s not human anymore.

Dream-McCree dips his hands under the towel and it easily unravels. He pushes him down on some kind of imaginary surface. Silent, smiling gently, he takes him. Calloused hands wrap around his length. Genji bites his lip, letting the fantasy stroke him. It feels good. It’s all fake, but it feels good.

He starts to cry.

“Genji-kun?”

A voice.

“Genji-kun!”

Oh.

“McCree?” Genji squeaks out. His throat throbs as he does. _Shit._ Right, no talking.

“Y’were cryin’ and moanin’… I…”

Genji looks around. Sliding doors. Tatami mats. A scroll that says ‘courage’ hanging on the wall. McCree hovers above him, worry written all over his features. Genji reaches out to him, as if making sure that the cowboy was really there. He sees his own hand. Metal. Reality.

He takes his hand away and sits up slowly. McCree backs away, but watches him carefully, ready to catch him if he collapses.

_“Bad dream. Sorry for worrying you.”_

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Genji shakes his head. _“How about you tell me a story instead?”_

“Well, alright.” McCree gets comfortable. He has one knee folded in front of him and he leans back, putting his weight on his palm, which is stretched behind him. “Remember how I told you Captain Reyes picked me up? Practically raised me. Wasn’t much before that, honestly.”

He continues.

“Told me he can give me a better life. I ain’t laughed so much in ages.” McCree takes his hand, brushes his thumb over his metal fingers, soothing them. “I was a smug kid. Thought I’d seen the world by then and didn’t think anythin’ would surprise me. ‘Old man, I’d be glad ta watch ya try,” I told him. Gabe ruffled my hair with a gentle smile, then knocked me out. Next I woke, I was in Switzerland. A whole new life.”

Their fingers intertwine. His touch feels so real. Genji nestles into McCree, rests his head on his shoulder and loses himself in his story. He imagines a younger Jesse. A teenage Jesse. Probably just as cocky. Maybe just as smooth, with slightly less experience. Smoother features. A jaded grin.

“I didn’t make it easy for Gabe. I snuck out, caused trouble. I watched and waited, expected him to throw me out. Jack didn’t like me at all. Caught Gabe arguin’ with him all the time. ‘Why’d you pick him up? He’s just a kid. He’s a lost cause.’ I was eighteen. Old enough in most countries.”

Genji smiles at the image. Troublemaker Jesse McCree. Sneaking out. Causing trouble. Relatable.

“All I did was prove Jack right, but Gabe didn’t give up on me. He continued to scold me, continued to teach me. Started takin’ me out on missions. He trusted me with things. I didn’t get it at all. I did nothin’ to deserve his trust, y’know?”

The cowboy shifts his weight to be more comfortable. He wraps his arms around Genji, bringing him closer, cradling him.

“One day, we’re out on a pretty dangerous recon gig. I mess up big time. Gabe’s surrounded. I have an openin’ to escape. I think about it, but then Gabe looks at me and I look at him. You know what I saw in his eyes?” McCree laughs gently. “Saw forgiveness. Man was willin’ ta let me go and not hold it against me. After everythin’ he given me, and I ain’t give nothin’ back. He was willin’ ta just let me escape. And, for some reason, I couldn’t what I usually did. I couldn’t be irresponsible and selfish. I didn’t run.”

Then, Captain Reyes is a bigger man than his brother is.

Genji feels like crying. He wonders if he’d be here if his brother hadn’t given up on him. What if Hanzo had been like Captain Reyes? Blind trust. Priceless generosity.

That’s not what the Shimada Clan was all about.

“I asked him after. Why did he trust me so much? And y’know what he said? He said ‘You don’t actually want to be a bad guy.’ And he was right. I didn’t. Didn’t think there was a place for good people in a bad world. Glad I was wrong.”

Genji didn’t want to be a bad guy either.

Genji didn’t want to be the black sheep of the family either.

Genji didn’t want to be a Shimada either.

_“I wish I’d met you sooner.”_ He types.

McCree pulls away, takes Genji’s chin between his thumb and index. “We’re met now.”

_“It would’ve been different. Better.”_

The cowboy looks confused. “Better?”

Genji puts his hands against McCree’s chest, feels the heart beating there, brings his hands lower until they’re right on the cowboy’s crotch. He takes one hand away to type. _“There are things we could’ve done.”_

Genji pushes McCree down under him and positions himself on his waist. He watches his metal fingers dances on the zipper of McCree’s pants. He’s tempted to unbutton and unzip them. He’s tempted to go down on him, get the cowboy all breathless and wet. He’s tempted.

He wants to ride the cowboy.

McCree puts his hands around Genji’s waist. He grins at him, pleased with the situation. Nothing but sincere love and adoring affection in his expression. He’s like a puppy, so easy to satisfy. “Don’t think it’s anythin’ we can’t still do.”

_“Don’t play with me.”_

But Genji knows he isn’t.

“I ain’t.”

He knows.

_“We can’t.”_

“Well, we won’t if you’re not comfortable.”

Genji doesn’t notice he’s shaking. Doesn’t notice he’s crying until the tears are falling off his face Until his vision blurs and his throat aches with silent sobs. What his mind wanted, his body refused to perform. The discrepancy was too much. Even though t the touches were real, the feelings were real—He couldn’t accept any of them. Because it wasn’t skin.

McCree brings his hands up from his waist and wraps his hands around his back to bring cuddle him closer. Genji folds over, bring his own arms around McCree’s neck and cries into his chest. Helplessly.

“It’s alright, darlin’. Let it all out. I’m here for ya.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry this took absolutely forever to put out. I've been in creative limbo lately and it was so hard for me to figure how exactly I wanted to tackle the end of this fic. It started as somewhat of a joke to me? But then, I realized that maybe it wasn't. There's still one more chapter left and it hopefully won't take as long to update again. No guarantees, though!
> 
> And I know I said there'd be sex. I had planned for it, but ultimately couldn't convince myself that Genji would want to go through with it.
> 
> Anyway, here's the song I wrote this to: [Spire - Webs (ft. Rakita)](https://youtu.be/6fQ786Bk9Ak)
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's read it so far! I really appreciate the comments and kudos and bookmarks!


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